


Trial by Fire

by LostCol



Series: TOWJLHH [1]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Chronic Illness, Deaf Character, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, POV First Person, POV Original Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21722023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostCol/pseuds/LostCol
Summary: He was acting kind of funny during lunch, and I’m worried enough that I want to keep an eye on him for as long as I can.Derek's first time handling a tonic-clonic seizure.
Relationships: Brian Kinney/Justin Taylor (Queer as Folk), Brian Kinney/Original Male Character, Justin Taylor (Queer as Folk)/Original Male Character(s)
Series: TOWJLHH [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1627354
Comments: 28
Kudos: 77





	Trial by Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LaVieEnRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaVieEnRose/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The One Where Justin Loses His Hearing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14677227) by [LaVieEnRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaVieEnRose/pseuds/LaVieEnRose). 



> Russian nesting doll situation here! This is a QAF fic set entirely within the world of LaVieEnRose's QAF series The One Where Justin Loses His Hearing, and it's told from the POV of an original character from that series, so if you haven't read it, read this at the risk of being thoroughly confused. Or, better yet, go over there right now and read it. Seriously, right now, it's amazing. I'll wait.

We’re walking back to his studio after meeting up for lunch at that great Greek place we like. I’m pretty sure he just thinks I’m walking back with him so we can keep talking about his show that’s coming up next month, which I totally am, but he was acting kind of funny during lunch, and I’m worried enough that I want to keep an eye on him for as long as I can. 

  
But not so worried that I’m going to call Brian. Jesus, I do not want to be the one who calls Brian with a false alarm.

  
We’re halfway back to his studio when he starts spacing out on me, like his mind is wandering off to nowhere in the middle of a sentence, and my heart starts pounding. It’s not like I haven’t seen Justin have seizures before. Hang around him for a few months, and you’ll probably see at least a few small ones. But now, as we’re walking down the crowded sidewalk, I’m thinking about how I’ve never seen him – shit, seen _anyone_ – have a tonic-clonic seizure, let alone been alone with him during one, and about how those are usually the seizures he has this kind of warning for. 

  
A while back, after Emily had been with him for a couple of them, I’d asked her what she does when he has one, so I’d know what to do. But I’d fucking _prayed_ that it’d never happen, because I know myself well enough to know that I get panicky in those kinds of situations, when someone’s sick or hurt, and their, like, wellbeing is in my hands. 

  
Kind of ironic that I’m in love with an ER doctor, huh?

  
Just as I’m starting to daydream about Daphne, Justin steps in front of me, forcing me to pull up short, and says, **Derek, I’m going to have a seizure**. His signing is disjointed and messy, but the message is painfully clear, and he’s got this vaguely nervous look on his face that I can only assume is a toned-down version of my own. 

  
He collapses then, so suddenly that my body reacts before my brain consciously processes what’s happening, and I catch him under his arms as he starts seizing. By a massive stroke of luck, we’re standing next to an alley when it happens, so as soon as I grab him, I step backward into the alley to give us some space and privacy. I sit against the wall and sort of drape him across me, loosely holding his upper body in my lap, his head in my arms, his legs on the ground beside me. I know this position isn’t ideal, and I’m holding him as loosely as I can so he doesn’t hurt himself convulsing in my grip or anything, but the ground’s fucking filthy and covered in god knows what disease-ridden shit, plus it’s rock-hard pavement, so I want as little of his body coming into contact with it as possible. 

  
It’s nothing like the other seizures I’ve seen him have. He’s unconscious, for one thing, and it looks like he’s choking, and I can tell he’s not breathing, and his lips are turning blue. Emily told me that’s completely normal, that people never breathe during this type of seizure, but… god. Hearing about it, and having your friend stop breathing in your lap in a disgusting alley are two completely different things. And his whole body is jerking so violently, I’m having trouble hanging onto him. God, no wonder he’s so locked up, these muscle contractions look brutal.

  
Luckily, only two people walking by notice what’s happening, and I’m able to wave both of them away with a reassuring “We’re fine, I promise. He has epilepsy.” And goddammit, Justin had better fucking appreciate me talking for him. I rarely speak, and almost never in front of strangers, but the last thing I want is for some good Samaritan to call 911. Brian would be so pissed if I called him from the back of an ambulance when there was no good reason for us to be _in_ an ambulance.

  
I sit there for what feels like forever, struggling to hold Justin tightly enough that he stays in my lap, but not so tightly that he gets hurt, but finally, _finally_ , the seizure stops. He starts breathing the second he stops convulsing, and he blinks his eyes open a couple seconds after that, and he looks up at me like we’ve never met before. He looks confused, and scared, so I tell him **don’t worry, you’re okay** , because I don’t know what the hell else to say. 

  
**What’s going on?** His signing is still slurred and disjointed, but I get it.

  
**You had a seizure. You’re okay.**

  
He looks around us, still confused as hell. **Where are we?**

  
**We’re right near your studio. Do you want to go there? You can sleep on the couch.**

  
I know he needs to sleep after these big ones, and the studio is only a couple blocks away. And I really, really want to get him off the street when he’s like this. I’m having flashbacks of visiting him in the hospital after those cops almost fucking killed him.

  
He stares at me with this really suspicious look on his face, like he’s trying to figure out if I’m playing him, but eventually he says, **Yeah… sure**.   
Which I’m really fucking glad about, because we were going to his studio whether he agreed or not, but this way is definitely easier. I do not want to be the black guy dragging an unwilling white kid down the street. 

  
I push him off me a little and stand up, pulling him up with me, but as soon as we’re vertical, he pushes against me with my shirt balled up in his fists and says, **No, I’m tired**.

  
**I know, that’s why we’re going to your studio. Where there’s a couch.**

  
**NO. I want to sleep now.**

  
Fuck. 

  
**I know, Justin. On the couch. It’s only two blocks.**

  
**NO! Fuck off.**

  
Jesus Christ. I’m debating what to do here. I could carry him, I think, if I had to. Or I could call Brian. And don’t get me wrong, I absolutely will call Brian if it comes to that, but I really want to handle this without begging Brian to swoop in and rescue me. I should be able to get my friend two blocks down the street, postictal or not. 

  
**Come on, you can sleep in 5 minutes, for as long as you want.** And I just wrap my arm around his shoulders and start walking in the right direction. And… he stumbles along beside me. He’s grumbling a little, but he comes, and as someone who’s seen Justin flip out, I know full well how lucky I am that he didn’t just push me away and start screaming. And fuck knows what would have happened then.

  
He gets more and more unsteady as we go, and he’s almost falling over by the time we get to his building. I have to half carry him up the stairs, but my steady, one-handed stream of **Almost there, come on, the couch is so close** , seems to help. 

  
I’m not even sure if he’s technically still awake when I deposit him on the couch, so I take off his shoes, cover him with the blanket he keeps here and… call Brian. Obviously, come on.

  
He’s sitting at his desk at Kinnetic when he answers, and I really, really hope he doesn’t have any major meetings scheduled for the afternoon, because I know he’s going to want to come here as soon as I tell him what’s going on.

  
**Hey, that looks like the studio. You with Justin?**

  
**Yeees.**

  
He squints at the screen then, like he’d only half looked at me before, which, honestly, is probably true, and his expression gets a little more serious.   
**What’s going on?**

  
Deep breath. **He had a seizure. A tonic-clonic one. He’s okay, though.** I add that to offset any panic on Brian’s end, not that he’d ever let me see it if he could help it.

  
**Did he hit his head?**

  
**No, I caught him. I don’t think he got hurt at all.**

  
Brian lets out a breath, and I wonder if he means for me to see the relief that flashes across his face. **Where is he? Show me.**

  
I turn the phone to show Justin sleeping on the couch for a few seconds before turning it back to me. **He’s okay. I got him back to the studio and he went right to sleep.**

  
**Oh. Where were you when it happened?**

  
**On the sidewalk. He was acting kind of off at lunch, so I walked him back.**

  
**Fuck, thank you. He doesn’t always know, you know. Sometimes he knows exactly what’s happening, but he usually has no fucking idea what’s going on. His idiot brain can’t put it together. Jesus, anyway, thank you.**

  
**Of course, Brian** , I say, rolling my eyes. The fuck kind of friend does he think I am? **So… I pulled him into an alley when it started and sort of… held him. I know he’s supposed to be on his side, and he mostly was, but the ground was fucking filthy, and hard, obviously, so I couldn’t just lay him down.**

  
He’s watching me while I talk with an expression I can’t quite read, and when I finish, he just asks, **And he just came back to the studio with you?**

  
**Well, no, he fought me a little, he wanted to sleep. I tried explaining that he could sleep here, on the couch, but he just kept saying no.** Brian’s smiling a little now. **So, I just starting walking this way and pulled him with me, and he came.**

  
**You’re lucky he wasn’t a complete asshole. I guess he saves his most charming comments for me** , but he’s grinning when he says it. **Are you okay? Have you done a tonic-clonic before?**

  
**Yes, I am. And no, I haven’t. But Emily told me what to do a while ago.** And I mostly am, okay, even though I can feel my heart still beating a little too fast, and my hands shaking a little, and I seriously hope Brian hasn’t noticed.

  
**Yeah, she’s a champ. Okay. Okay, so he’s sleeping now… And you’re there…** Brian’s drumming his fingers on his chin, thinking, talking more to himself than to me. 

  
**Okay, it’s probably going to take me 30-40 minutes to get there. Can you stay until then?**

  
**Of course. I don’t have any more classes today. But even if I did, Brian, come on.**

  
He nods and stands up as he continues. **He might sleep the whole time, but he probably won’t, and if he wakes up, he’s going to be confused. And probably a jerk. Just reassure him that he’s okay. Tell him everything’s fine, and that I’m coming, and that he should go back to sleep. And don’t let him wander around, he’s not steady after these big ones, and he’s a klutz at the best of times, so…**

  
**It’s okay Brian, I’ve got him. I’ll see you soon, okay?** I can tell he’s trying to gather up his things so he can get out of there, and trying to hold his phone in one hand and sign to me with the other is leaving him exactly zero hands to grab his stuff with. 

  
**Okay.** He stares at me hard for a few seconds, then nods. **Okay. I’ll be there soon.**

  
And then he’s gone.

  
>>>>>>>>>

  
I’m checking out one of Justin’s paintings – it’s still crazy to me how talented he is, the one I’m looking at now is this abstract one of all different shades of blue and gray, and even though I know it’s just paint on a canvas, it’s like… pure emotion, punching you in the soul – when I see him shifting around on the couch out of the corner of my eye. I head over to see if he needs anything, and he looks up at me with these giant eyes, looking sad and kind of… lost, I guess, and he’s crying a little. 

  
**Hey, buddy, what’s wrong?** I ask, squatting down beside him. I have no idea where that “buddy” came from, I don’t think I’ve called anyone that in my life, but… he’s scared, and sick, and I’m feeling protective. Of my friend who’s three years older than me. Whatever. **Do you feel sick? Does something hurt?** Is this too many questions? 

  
**What?**

  
**Why are you crying?**

  
**I… I am?**

  
**Yeah. Does something hurt?** Emily told me that he’s dislocated joints during bad seizures before, and I hadn’t thought to check. I don’t even know how to check.

  
**… I don’t think so.**

  
He’s still crying, but… okay. **Brian will be here soon.**

  
I squeeze his hand, doing what I can to comfort him, but before I can say anything else, he falls back asleep. I go back to checking out his paintings, silently willing Brian to hurry his ass up.

  
>>>>>>>>>

  
I don’t even realize he’s woken up again until I feel a hand on my shoulder about ten minutes later, and I jump and spin around, my heart pounding.

  
**Brian** , he says, hitting the sign hard, and he’s got this pissed off look on his face.

  
**He’s on his way, he’ll be here soon.** I glance at my watch; he should be here in a few minutes.

  
**Where the fuck is he?**

  
**He was at work, he’s coming now.**

  
**Fuck, Derek!**

  
**What’s wrong?**

**I want Brian!**

  
**I know, he’ll be here really soon. Come on, come sit down** , I say, reaching for him, but he pushes my hands away.

  
**BRIAN.**

  
**He’s coming, Justin! Come sit down and wait.**

  
I’m starting to get really nervous that he’s going to lose his balance or pass out or something, so I reach for him again, more desperately this time, and he pushes me away so hard he trips and falls backward. 

  
Somehow, even though my heart completely stops beating as visions of Brian’s face after Justin cracks his head open on the floor flash through my mind, I manage to grab his arm before he hits the ground and pull him up enough that he lands on the back of his hip instead of flat on his back. The momentum of the fall pulls me off balance though, and I almost slam into him, ruining my save, but I manage shift my weight at the last minute and land on my knees instead of right on top of him – and _fuck_ , landing hard on the floor like that _hurts_ – and I slip my free arm behind his back and hug him to me, stopping us from hitting the floor.

  
I stay like that for a minute, holding him against my chest, waiting for my heart to stop pounding and my breathing to slow down. As glad as I am that Brian wasn’t here to witness this monumental fuckup, where the fuck is he?!

  
Justin leans more heavily against me, and I feel a flash of panic imagining him blacking out because I hurt him when we fell, so I pull back slightly to look at his face and he looks up at me through half-closed eyes. **Going back to sleep** , he says, slurring badly, so when my heart starts back up, I pull him up and help him stumble back to the couch, keeping a death grip on him the whole way.

  
I’m just pulling the blanket back over him when Brian walks in, and I swear, I’ve never been so happy to see him. 

  
He barely glances at me on his way over to Justin, asking, **How’s he doing?**

  
**He’s fine.** I don’t elaborate because he’s not looking at me anyway, too focused on examining Justin, pulling off the blanket and feeling Justin’s joints, stretching out his loose elbow to make sure it’s still in the socket. He brushes Justin’s bangs off his forehead and checks him for a fever, and he smiles a little to himself when he’s done. Justin sleeps through all of it. 

  
Brian stands up and finally looks at me, looking completely relaxed. **He looks great! Did he wake up after we talked?**

  
**Yeah, he woke up twice. The second time… he got up. He really wanted you, he was upset.** I know my hands are shaking, and I can only imagine what my face is doing, because Brian’s expression shifts from relaxed to concerned, and he takes a few steps toward me.

  
**Did something happen? He can be kind of violent, after, sometimes.**

  
**No, no, it wasn’t that, it, he fell, but I caught him!** I rush to reassure him, because the second I say “fell,” I see fear flash across his face. **He didn’t hit his head, he just… I caught him. I just… I almost didn’t, and it was really fucking scary.**

  
**Okay, so he’s fine. It’s fine.** He raises an eyebrow. **Right? What happened?**

  
**He, well like I said, he wanted you, he was really upset, and I told him you were on your way and that he should sit down to wait, and I reached for him to bring him back to the couch, and he pushed me away.** I know I’m talking too fast, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to get this out otherwise. **But he pushed too hard, and he knocked himself off balance, and he fell, and I caught him in time, but then I almost fell on top of him, and fuck, Brian, I don’t know how you do this all the time.**

  
**Well, to be fair, he only has tonic-clonics a few times a year. And I’ve had a lot of practice. You think I get it right every time? Christ, Justin’s biggest injuries have happened with me.**

  
He studies me for a minute, then continues. **He’s okay, Derek, you did great. You kept him safe. That’s all he needs. That’s all it is.**

  
He still looks concerned, and when I nod, he steps forward and hugs me, hard, and I’m so fucking embarrassed because I can feel myself trembling a little. My heart’s still pounding. And I know he feels it, because he squeezes the back of my neck before pulling away and saying again, gently this time, **He’s fine. You did great. It’s fucking scary the first time, and it sucks that it happened on the street. Trial by fire, huh? But you did exactly what you needed to. You got him somewhere safe, you called me, and you kept him safe until I got here.**

  
**Why are you being so nice to me? You're being weird.**

  
He laughs. **Because you look freaked out, and I don’t want you to stop hanging out with Justin alone because you’re afraid of him.** He shrugs and says, **It would break his heart** , like it’s nothing. 

  
I stare at him, not really believing he just said that.

  
**Stop looking at me like that.**

  
**Christ, you love him so much** , I say, smirking a little, and man, giving Brian a hard time is really helping calm me down.

  
**Well, you’re feeling better** , he says, laughing, and then he tilts his head slightly and turns toward the couch, and I see Justin shifting around over his shoulder.

  
**Hey** , I say, getting his attention, **do you want help bringing him home?**

  
**Uhhh…** he says, distracted, watching Justin settle back down.

  
I know how Brian is, so I head him off. **I know you can do it yourself, but I’m here, and I’m offering, and it’ll be safer and more comfortable for him with two of us**.

  
He just looks at me and laughs, saying **Fuck you. Fine, yes. Thank you.** Watching Justin, he says, **Now’s as good a time as any. He’ll probably sleep for hours, so there’s no point in waiting.**

  
He calls for a car so it’ll be waiting when we get downstairs, then he sits next to Justin on the couch and shakes him gently, running the back of his hand over Justin’s cheek. After a minute, Justin slowly blinks his eyes open and finds Brian’s face. Smiling a little, Brian says, **Hey, Sunshine. I want to bring you home, okay? Then you can sleep for as long as you want.**

  
Looking confused, Justin asks, **Where are we?**

  
**We’re at your studio. You had a seizure. Derek’s** and he gestures to me, Justin’s eyes following, **going to help us get you home, okay?**

  
**… Okay.**

  
**Okay, up.** Brian helps Justin sit up and holds his shoulders while he gets his bearings, squeezing them a little. And it’s funny, I’ve seen Brian at work a few times, and, you know, just generally living his life, and I know what strangers, acquaintances, employees, see when they look at him. It’s how I saw him when we first met. And you’d never think that badass Brian Kinney, full of that confidence and bullshit bravado, has the freaking gentlest hands I’ve ever seen. It took me a few times seeing him with Justin when he was sick, or scared, or hurt to realize it wasn’t a fluke, that he always touches Justin this way when he’s… vulnerable.

  
Anyway, I pull the blanket off Justin, fold it, and leave it on the arm of the couch while Brian pulls Justin to his feet, and the second Justin wavers, Brian scoops him up. Justin wraps his arms around Brian’s neck and buries his face in his shoulder, so I don’t notice that he’s crying again right away.

  
**Grab the keys out of his pocket, he’ll kill us if we don’t lock up** , Brian says, after Justin’s already in his arms. Which wouldn’t have been a problem, except of course the keys are in the pocket that’s pressed against Brian’s stomach. I manage to get then after some digging, and I grab Justin’s shoes on the way out.

  
I’m still so relieved that everything’s okay that I rag on Brian on the way down, asking **You good on the stairs, old man?** with a smirk, and when he realizes all he can do with his arms full of Justin is glare at me, I laugh. 

  
I look at Justin then because he moves his head a little when Brian starts down the stairs, and I see with a jolt that there are tears on his face. I can imagine what my face does then, because all I can think is that I really did hurt him, and we just hadn’t found the damage. Brian waves his fingers a little to get my attention and manages to partially sign **He’s okay, crying’s normal.**

  
Luckily, the car’s waiting for us at the curb, and I help Brian maneuver Justin into the middle of the back seat. He opens his eyes for a few seconds when the car starts and looks around, confused, so Brian squeezes his thigh, and when he sees Brian sitting next to him, he just closes his eyes again and rests his head on Brian’s shoulder. And that’s fucking incredible to see, that he just… he knows Brian’s got shit covered, so he just checks out, trusting Brian to take care of him. Isn’t that what we all want?

  
His hands free now, Brian explains, **He’s not crying because he’s hurt, he’s just crying because… it’s just his brain, it’s so fucked up right after these big ones, it’s his brain reacting to the trauma of the seizure. He doesn’t even really know he’s crying.**

  
**Yeah, he was crying when he woke up earlier, and he… I asked if he was hurt, and he didn’t even know he was crying until I told him.**

  
**It’s normal for him to be a complete disaster after these big ones. He’s okay.**

  
I just nod and rest my hand on Justin’s thigh, protectively, I guess, I don’t know, which is stupid because Brian’s here, and Justin sure as hell doesn’t need me protecting him when Brian’s around, but… I’m still kind of overwhelmed, so I don’t question it. Brian looks down at my hand and sort of smiles to himself before looking out the window, and I wonder in passing if I should be embarrassed, but… whatever. Brian would die for Justin. Kill for Justin. Blow the fucking world up for Justin, we can all see that, so I know he gets it.

  
When we get to their house, I help Brian get Justin out of the car, and he carries him right to the bedroom, where I pull down the covers before he lays Justin down. Justin sleeps through the whole thing, and Brian says **He’s out now** , brushing the bangs off Justin’s forehead. 

  
I realize after a minute that I’m just standing there, staring down at Justin, and when I look up, Brian’s watching me.

  
**He can’t scare me off, you know. You don’t have to worry about that. I just get…**

  
**Panicky?**

  
**In the moment. But now that I’ve done it…**

  
**… What?**

  
**I don’t know. I guess I feel like I can handle it now. Like if it happens again, well, I’ll handle it again.**

  
He smiles. **I said that to him once, back when the seizures first started getting bad.**

  
**God, I get why you’re so protective of him. When it happened, I felt so…** I shake my head. **I spoke. To strangers.**

  
**Oh, Christ.**

  
**Yeah, these good Samaritans that stopped to help. I didn’t want them calling an ambulance, so I told them we were fine. I said the word “epilepsy” for fuck’s sake. I can guarantee I’ve never said that word before in my life, god knows what it sounded like.**

  
He quirks a smile and raises an eyebrow and says, **Youuuu want to say it for me?**

  
**Nope** , I say with a big smile. 

  
**So… do you… need anything?**

  
He smiles a little and bites his lip like he’s trying not to laugh. **We’ve done this a few times now, we’re good.**

  
**Okay, because I’m supposed to meet Daphne…**

  
**Go, jeez, go tell her what a big strong protector she’s marrying.**

  
**Fuck you.**

  
He laughs, but he says, **Seriously, though, you did great. He’s okay because you made sure he was okay, even though you were freaked out. That’s not nothing.**

  
I watch him and smile at him and finally say, **He’s really lucky to have you, you know?**

  
He laughs again, **get the fuck out of my house** , and he pushes me toward the door.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! I tried really hard to get Derek's voice right. I have a few more of these TOWJLHH one-offs that I'll be posting at some point. Comments are appreciated!


End file.
